


His Grave

by best_boyf_ever



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, Heavy Angst, M/M, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-17 17:28:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18969724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/best_boyf_ever/pseuds/best_boyf_ever
Summary: Jeremy visits a certain gravestone to fulfill a pact he had made with Michael.





	His Grave

Jeremy Heere walked down the sidewalk, his hands in his pockets, his thin body was shaking from the cold breeze. It was late fall, October almost over. It was colder than usual and it made sense to Jeremy. Everything had been cold for Jeremy for awhile now, ever since he lost someone. Someone important to him. 

Leaves crumpled under his boots as he walked into an unkempt graveyard, his nose slightly pink from the cool air. He walked down the leaf covered path easily, for he knew the way on where to go as if it were engraved into his brain, which at this point it was. He soon stopped walking to face a gravestone. This one stood out compared to the others, for this one was new and well kept, fresh flowers from the previous day stood up in beautiful blooms and colors, and the ground was clearly recently touched. This grave only looked nice since Jeremy had been the one taking care of it, that being what took up his free time if he weren't at school or his job, which he rarely went to anymore at this point. He was the only one to visit the grave at this point unfortunately and he wanted this grave to look nice, it just had to or else Jeremy would be even more distraught.

Jeremy knelt down to the ground, looking at the tombstone and reading over what was engraved despite it hurting him horribly to do so. He pulled out his left hand from his pocket, a small pocket knife in his grasp, a knife which he had won at a carnival many years ago. He sighed softly to himself, his breath visible in the air in front of him. He ran his fingers though his curly, unkempt hair that was covering his eyes, his hair had grown since he felt no need to trim it. Not anymore. He felt so lonely, so numb. He was just empty at this point in his life, so lonely. He had no one, yet he had everyone. Everyone, but for one person.

"Hey, Michael... I'm sorry I'm 5 minutes late," Jeremy said, voice cracking and hoarse from the crying he had previously been doing for the past few weeks. He quickly apologized for his voice, meeting with no reply. "I... O reread your letter to me again... I-I'm really sorry, Micah. I didn't know. I promise..." He sniffled as his grip on the handle of the small pocket knife tightened.

"I know I keep saying it, nut it's true." He paused as if he were to get a response, a response he so desperately needed. 

He didn't get one,

"So much has changed, Micah, Rich and Jake are together now... I guess I owe you those 10 bucks, huh?" He took his right hand out of his pocket, placing 10 dollars in front of the tomb. "they're a good couple, just like you predicted... You were right, as always, but that's nothing new to you, is it?"

Again, he was met with silence. 

"Christine and I?... We.. We aren't really together anymore. I couldn't be with her... I just couldn't. I don't love her, Micah. I don't love her. I really don't. I didn't, Micah, I promise!" A sob escaped from Jeremy's throat. He hadn't realized he had been crying until just then. He sniffled and wiped his eyes, muttering a small, pathetic 'dammit". "I'm sorry, Michael. I shouldn't have left you alone... I shouldn't have put all my time and attention on Christine. I shouldn't have ignored you for her... Michael, please come back.. I love you so much, please.. Come back to me, Micah. I.. I need you... Please. Micah..."

He let out a loud cry, his body trembling and shaking from the pure sorry and distraught he felt. Sadly, he was always like this now and days. A pathetic, crying mess. He took a few minutes to calm and collect himself to the bets of his ability. He took in a shaky breath. "Remember that pact we made in 7th grade, Micah?.." he asked, his voice weak from crying. "I... I didn't do it, did I?"

He smiled weakly and looked up at what should have been his best friend looking down at him with that smile that just used to warm Jeremy's heart, but all he saw was a grey sky and not a person to be seen for miles. His heart began to race. "I'm going to do it now, Micah."

He laughed slightly at how pathetic he sounded. "I love you, Micah. I know that this is all my fault... But I'm fixing it, Micah! I'm going to fulfill the pact and make it up to you!" He lifted the sleeves of the hoodie he was wearing. It was Michael's hoodie, that being the main thing that was left for him. His pale arm had goosebumps littering it from the cold weather and small fear he felt. He brought the small knife to his wrist, still looking up as if he were to make eye contact with Michael. "I love you, Micah."

Those were the last words Jeremy said. He shut his mouth tight so that he couldn't even murmur another word. He brought the blade closer to his wrist and made the fist of many cuts. 

He felt nothing.

Tears fell down Jeremy's face. Was he really that numb from losing Michael? The answer: Yes. He made long, deep cuts into his wrists. He didn't dare whimper, but he did cry. It was a painfully silent cry, his tears falling down his face were stinging against the cuts he was making.

Jeremy laid down, dropping the knife. He nuzzled close to the grave and try to cuddle close to the hoodie he wore, which still faintly smelled like his friend, and closed his eyes. He was bleeding out. He felt colder and more numb than before. A small smile grazed Jeremy's lips as he passed out from blood lost, his thoughts were only of Michael. 'I'll see you soon, Micah'.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to request stuff. I’ll wrote almost anything and yeah, that includes smut. If I write, it’ll be over 1,000 words. I promise


End file.
